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the weekend is over; I wish I didn’t refer to it as the weekend but that’s what it has become in my mind. I am picking up scattered pieces of my mind, trying to piece them back together. I am surprised, angry at how little others around me are affected. I had expected the outer world to fall apart just as mine did. and not just once, but over and over. just like mine did. but nothing has changed. the world just kept going on. business as usual. he went on a vacation instead of staying by my side. it was a blow beyond my comprehension.

why didn’t you just strike a knife into my back? so many times I wanted to scream. I couldn’t live with this, I still can’t, but I am slowly finding my way back. I wish I was left with a scar somewhere on my body. one that I could point to and say, this is where it happened. but no; there’s nothing. as if nothing happened. my stomach turns over every time I think about this.

the bliss of april is no longer inside me and neither is the growing glow beneath my heartbeat. there’s nothing there anymore. I feel empty, abandoned. a blank canvas torn in half. I am allowed to start over but the piece will never be fully mended together. there’ll always be cracks in it, just like when you break a mirror and try to glue it back into a single piece. it’s how I see the world right now. there’s nothing poetic about it. it is incredibly difficult trying to sound poetic when you have lost faith and trust in everything and everyone around you. I wish I could remember what it was like; what it used to be. except it feels like a life of someone I never knew.

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